Curious Encounters
by Delgodess
Summary: One of the solders laughed and Arvaarad turn on him. "What?" He grunted, irritated. The other qunari's eyes glittered with amusement. "It seems you have a shadow." Oc
1. Curiosity Killed the Cat

**Summary:** One of the solders laughed and Arvaarad turn on him. "What?" He grunted, irritated. The other qunari's eyes glittered with amusement. "It seems you have a shadow."

**Disclaimer: **Dragon Age belongs to BioWare.

* * *

She peeked over the edge of the crate, small dirty hands griping the worn wood tightly. The noon day sun beat down on the wharf, making the pathways of the docks shimmer with heat. Even in the shadowy alcove where she hid, snugly wedged between two cargo crates, it was nearly unbearable.

But if they could stand it, then so could she.

When she had heard some of the older children talking animatedly about Demons, she passed it off as the usual rubbish. The adults in Darktown were always complaining about Blood Mages and Templars, and now some the older street rats had picked up on the annoying habit.

She jumped, startled, when one of the boys suddenly stood up and started yelling.

"I ain't ly'in! He was _huge_! A'n had horns! A'n was…well…_BLUE_!"

_That_ caught her attention.

Blue?

What kind of Demon was _blue_?

It came silently, stalking down her spine, fingering her ribs, before fiercely digging its claws into her gut.

Curiosity.

Killer of all cats, fools and the occasional small child.

And she, unfortunately, was the latter.

She was doomed before she even started.

And that is how, six hours ago, the small, sharp eyed child found herself slinking through filth infested streets, crammed full of what the other children liked to call "Badens". Luckily for her, she was too small, too young, and too poor to be bothered by the darker residents of Lowtown.

Navigating the streets wasn't a problem; a lifetime of weaving through adults and dodging kicks (more common than you'd think) had made her light on her feet. But every new bruise from these encounters caused her to become slower, and for someone as small as herself, speed was the key to survival. So she sought quieter, less well known roads.

The roof tops of Kirkwall were hardly difficult to access and the alleys were some of the best places to hide. But though less traveled, they were far more dangerous. Thieves and cutthroats frequented these highways, so she quickly learned how to make herself invisible.

It was surprisingly easy; fading into the background.

She never knew why, nor did she care to find out. It simply was and that was good enough for her.

Scaling up her favorite wall (overrun with flowering vines), she swung herself up onto the faded brown roof shingles before rolling to her feet. The air was clearer up here, if barely. Hot summer days and no wind often caused the smoke and pollution to hang like a dark cloud over the city.

She took a moment to orient herself, making the Gallows her focal point and branching out from it, before heading in its direction.

She used to love coming to the Docks; all the exotic people and goods would make her go wide-eyed with wonder.

Then the Fereldans started arriving in Kirkwall, and the more experienced pickpockets quickly dubbed the Docks "off limits".

Only the older children worked the Docks now.

Hence the reason why only the older children (adults didn't count, those busy bodies) were talking about these "Demons".

She knew she would get punished if she was spotted here, but she wasn't worried; no one ever saw her and besides, if they did, it's not like they could catch her.

That's what she told herself, sliding behind a chimney to catch her breath. She crouched down, placing her hand on the tiles beneath her for support. Her eyes flitted back and forth over the docks, passing over ships and dockworkers quickly. She didn't know _exactly_ what she was looking for, just that _it_ would be somewhere at the Docks.

She scowled, forehead wrinkling and bottom lip protruding slightly.

Stupid people and their vague descriptions.

She snorted. That's what she gets for not paying closer attention to the conversations going on around her. Speaking of which…

"I swear! They're go'in t'kill us! Near pissed m'self when the one at ta gate glared at me!"

The dockworker, a shady little fellow with dark beady eyes, shuttered, nose twitching repeatedly over his tiny black mustache.

"He ain't glar'in at _you_. He was glar'in at _everybody_. Damn Qunari don't want no one go'in near th'er space. B'sides, if ya wernt so jumpy all th'time, he would'nt 'ave ev'n _looked_ at ya!"

The other dockworker, a large man with wild golden hair and piercing blue eyes, emphasized this by smacking his companion over the head and nearly sending him face first into the dirt. The child on the roof had to stifle a giggle at the display. A lion and a mouse playing.

How _funny_.

Mouse caught himself and rubbed the back of his head angrily.

"Well it ain't my fault! Damn creepy as shit if ya ask me! All em'ty eyes an' horns. T'ain't natural!"

Stepping over a pile of trash, Lion fingered the dagger at his side thoughtfully.

"Ya know wat d'ey remind me of? Dem paint'ins of demons at ta Chantry. Looked just like'em."

"Chantry?" the mousey man eyed his friend. "Since when do ya go to ta _Chantry_?"

Then he smiled, all teeth and mischief.

"Ya ain't don noth'in ta make ya ask fer forgivness 'ave ya?"

The bigger man recoiled, sputtering before barking out: "NO! I just like ta go ta church an' hear ta sermons! Ain't noth'in wrong with t'at!"

Mouse smirked.

"Na na, especially if Sist'a Peny is giv'in ta sermons."

The tips of Lions ears turned red and he suddenly lunged for the smaller man.

"Shut it, you!"

Mouse dodged, laughing, and then running around the corner and out of sight, the lion of a man right on his heels. The young child giggled, not understanding most of the exchange, but finding it funny none the less. She stood up and hopped to the next roof.

She had a new word to think about.

Qunari.

* * *

It had taken her two hours, one fall and a few scrapes but she had finally found it.

The Qunari Demon's lair.

Well it wasn't really a lair. Just a closed off area of the Docks that everyone (adults _and_ street rats, weird) avoided. It was just as run down as the compounds around it, but had a huge (to her eyes) make shift gate blocking the entrance and red banners hanging on either side.

It was the banners that had initially caught her attention and drew her to this part of the Docks. They were red and tattered, with a white diamond of lines in the center. It wasn't pretty, like some of the other banners she had seen, but it wasn't bad either.

The next thing she had noticed (though why she hadn't seen him first is a mystery) was the enormous man standing guard at the gate.

At least she thought he was a man.

He was tall, taller than anyone she had ever seen. His hair, falling to his shoulders, was pure white. Beginning at the edge of his hairline, then curling upwards over his head, were horns that blackened towards the tips. His torso was bare, save for the red makings that ran down his face and chest.

But what really had her nearly falling off the roof in excitement was his skin.

It was _blue_.

* * *

She lay flat on her belly, head cradled in her hands and feet kicking in the air behind her. A cool breeze, small though it was, blew past her. The roof that she rested on was close enough to _see_ the Qunari compound, but not much else. She yawned and continued studying the area separating her from the object of her fixation.

It was strange: the space between her and the compound. There was no _cover_. No _shadows_. _Nothing_. Just a barren wasteland of empty roofs.

The city was a labyrinth of alleys, walkways and roof tops. An empty space like this shouldn't be able to exist.

But it did, and that had the child's instincts tingling.

She had tried going around it but it was the same _everywhere_. It's almost like they didn't _want_ people to get in.

She huffed.

Grownups were so odd.

She tilted her head and looked down. The logical rout would be the main road leading down to the pier; it ran right past were she wanted to go. But seeing as she shouldn't be here in the first place…. that wouldn't work.

So she was stuck.

For the moment anyway.

It wasn't that getting across the expanse in front of her was _impossible_, because it was possible; it was getting across it _without_ being seen that would be difficult.

She rolled over onto her back, head hanging over the roof's edge and blinked at the new view. Maybe she could figure it out upside down.

It was a game she liked to play. What is the quickest, easiest route, without being seen? A puzzle within a puzzle.

She'd always liked puzzles.

She moved her head to the right and as her perception shifted, everything else clicked into place.

The small child grinned.

"Found you!"

* * *

She was still smiling as she shimmied down the wall in the side alley across from the Qunari gate. Her feet hit the ground and she rolled, coming to a stand at the mouth of the alley. She glanced up and gasped, her body automatically crouching down behind a pile of crates.

There, standing not by the gate but by the entrance, was _another_ Demon. He looked different from the one behind him. His armor, (probably heavier than she was) seemed to be held up by leather straps crossing his painted chest. His gloved hands flexed, the leather of his arm guards creaking with the movement.

And when he turned his head sharply in her direction, the child had to clamp a hand over her mouth to stop any sound from escaping. His face, along with a portion of his horned head, was covered with a helmet. Its harsh angles and ornamental horns only served to emphasize the entire picture:

_Demon_.

Now she understood what the older children were talking about. There _were_ blue Demons at the Docks! She turned, intending to go back to Darktown now that she had her answer, but hesitated.

Had she gotten her answer?

Once again, curiosity reared its feline head.

The little girl crawled back to the crates and peered over. She had so many questions. Why was he here? How heavy was his armor? How did he get so tall? But most importantly:

_Why was he blue?_

She chewed her lip thoughtfully. The only way to find out was to ask. But how to get to him without being seen? She sighed and settled herself back against the crates.

Another puzzle.

* * *

She couldn't stand it any longer.

The heat, the itching urge to get answers, the _waiting_. She was going to _die _if she didn't do something soon.

She pushed sweat soaked hair out of her eyes.

She had been sitting there for hours, waiting for the road to clear, waiting for the perfect moment, waiting for everyone to just _leave_.

At first, she'd entertained herself by watching the Demons. They were interesting, but spying on them only fueled the fire that was rapidly burning away her patience. And watching them intently for almost two hours hadn't done anything to help her solve her puzzle.

She peeked over the edge of the crate again, bare toes flexing in the dirt beneath her. The road was nearly empty, the blistering heat of the sun causing most of the Dock's inhabitance to seek shelter in Lowtown's pubs and brothels. If she was going to talk to them, now was the best time.

She cautiously stood and inched her way around the cargo crates. She glanced about, making _absolutely_ sure that the only people here were the Demons and herself. Her eyes fixed on the closest one, the one with armor, noting his spread legs and aggressive posture.

She fidgeted nervously before taking a deep breath and stepping out onto the road. The path was hot and burned her feet, so she sprinted soundlessly to the shadow he was standing in.

She stopped, breathlessly reaching out a hand and tugging his pant leg.

Her hands shook, whither from fear or excitement, she didn't know, so she clasped them behind her back as she cleared her throat.

"Ah, Messere Demon, Sir?"

He looked down at her.

She swallowed thickly.

"W-why, why are you blue?"

* * *

Gah! I'm so used to writing short chapters! This is so weird! What do you think? What is well done and what needs to get better? Reviews are always nice btw. ;)


	2. But Satisfaction Brought it Back

Being put on guard duty was not what Arvaarad had expected he'd be doing when he got back to the compound. Two weeks of trudging through Tal'Vashoth infested coast lines, fighting off wild dogs and dragging his Saarebas along for the ride, had left him _beyond_ spent. His feet hurt, his back ached, and he _swore_ that the plant his Saarebas had given him to cover his scent had _also_ given him a rash.

_Everywhere_.

So when they had informed him, not fifteen minutes after he had arrived back at the compound, that he had _guard duty_, he was so dumbfounded he couldn't even _think_ adequate swear words.

When he had asked _why_, they had simply said: "Ask the gate guard."

Humph!

_Ask the gate guard!_

He'd ask the gate guard!

He'd ask the gate guard for a spar and then _wipe the floor with him._

After his rash healed of course.

He dropped his Saarebas off with his Karataam (the smug bastard) and dragged himself over to the gate. He was surprised at who stood there, though by all accounts he shouldn't have been.

The Karashok at the gate was one of the older spotters, and was well known for his hard eyes and foreboding demeanor. Even among his own kind he was near unapproachable.

Which made him perfect for his job. Once again the Qun is proven correct.

Arvaarad sighed inwardly, deciding that taking out his anger on this particular Qunari would be detrimental to his health.

"Shanedan, Karashok." Arvaarad said as he approached. The Karashok glanced at him, before quickly turning his attention back to the road and area surrounding it.

"Shanedan, Arvaarad." He answered curtly.

Arvaarad stiffened.

Something was wrong.

He wouldn't have answered so otherwise.

"What is it?" The Karashok shifted.

"A presence. Eyes watching. Unseen."

Arvaarad relaxed, letting out a quick breath.

"There are always eyes watching."

Karashok's eyes flickered to his.

"These are different."

Arvaarad nodded, understanding that even if it was a fluke, it was better to be safe than sorry. It was still a pain in the ass though. He walked down the steps, folding his arms as he leaned against the wall opposite the banner. He was half way through a day dream about having a bath when he felt it. He had to force himself to remain in his casual position, even as his muscles tensed and adrenaline soared through his body.

He glanced over at the Karashok, who nodded knowingly. He calmly reached down and tightened his bracers, shifting his stance so that he was standing upright. His legs parted and he let his arms hang loosely at his sides.

Someone was watching.

* * *

It had been over two hours and still, there was nothing but the sensation of being watched. He had thought he had heard something earlier on, but with the traffic and noise the Athloks made as they went about their business, he couldn't be sure. His nose was no help either; the smell of rot and sea over powered everything else.

The tension swimming in the air around the two Qunari was almost visible.

Even the Athloks passing by shied away or, more often than not, stopped all together and went back they way they had come.

It wasn't that the stare was malevolent or angry. It didn't feel like that.

It was…intent.

Inquisitive, questioning and interested.

_Too_ interested.

It was driving Arvaarad crazy.

He flexed his arms, resisting the urge to reach up and grab his broad sword. He looked at the Karashok from the corner of his eye, his respect for him growing. For him to stand there, under constant scrutiny, for hours… no wonder he had finally cracked and called for assistance.

The Arvaarad scowled in frustration, letting the emotion show on his face. The few passerbies scurried quickly away.

What really pissed him off, besides being tired, hungry and covered by a wicked rash, was that he couldn't pinpoint where it was coming from. It was noon and the sun was at its zenith, shedding its wretched heat everywhere. The dockworkers and thugs had long since left, leaving the Docks deserted. And still, there was no sign of the infernal spy!

He could feel the sweat from under his helmet run down the back of his neck and into his hair. If he wasn't so angry with the world right now, he would be miserable.

Damn sun! Damn spy! Damn guard duty! Damn Saarebas with his "Special Herb"! Damn…

He felt a tug on his pants and if it weren't for years of training and restraint, the imekari that had just _appeared out of thin air_, would have had its neck snapped. As it was, Arvaarad's hand twitched towards it, halting only when his instincts screamed at him to stop. He forced his tight muscles to relax, and looked down.

She (though how he knew it was female under all that dirt and grime was anyone's guess) was a tiny thing, whose head barely reached his hips. Her skinny arms folded behind her back and her small legs carried an equally small body. She was hopping from foot to foot, tiny ankles looking like they would break with the smallest pressure.

She reminded him of the small birds that used to nest outside his window as a child.

The girl shifted and he drew his eyes up to her face. It was tiny, like the rest of her, with pouting lips, a stubborn chin and a little pointed nose. She had short hair, the dirt covered strands chopped hazardously, almost as if with a blunt knife.

If everything else about her was tiny, then her eyes were the exception.

Her wide eyes, the color of snow and nearly as bright, were piercing in their intensity. They were patient, hopeful, and waiting…with a start, the Arvaarad realized that she had been talking.

He frantically scrambled over the last few moments in his mind, appalled that that he could be so thoroughly distracted by this tiny imekari. He frowned, puzzled as he repeated her question.

_Why are you blue?_

Was she asking about his feelings or about his ski-

Oh Vashedan! Was the rash really so bad that a _child_ would comment on it? He discreetly checked his arms and sighed inwardly in relief at their condition.

He wasn't _that _bad.

Yet.

Then he felt it again and he tensed. The feeling of being watched intensified. He straitened, not realizing that he had leaned over to get a better look at the child. He looked about him intently, stretching his awareness to its limits.

Nothing.

The only ones here where himself, the Karashok and… the girl-child.

He felt a tug on his pants again and glanced down, irritated.

So it startled him (just a little) to see the intensity he had been feeling moments ago in the eyes of the child. Her eyes, narrowed and sparkling calculatingly, cut through him.

He swallowed.

And then the moment was over and the imekari once again radiated innocent curiosity.

"Messere Demon? Aren't you going to answer my question?"

She smiled brightly, waiting for his answer.

Was it just him, or were her canines just a _bit_ too sharp? By the Qun, he needed to sleep! Now he is imagining human children with sharp teeth asking after his rash. What's next?

He growled lowly in his throat, distantly noticing that she flinched.

"I was born this way, Hissra."

He walked quickly up the stairs, sending a parting "Panahedan" the Karashok's way before heading to the barracks to make his report.

Maybe he would wake up tomorrow and this would all be a dream.

* * *

**Saarebas: **A "dangerous thing," the Qunari word and title for mages.

**Tal- Vashoth: **"True Gray Ones." Those Vashoth that become violent, mostly former Qunari soldiers.

**Shanedan**: Literally, "I'll hear you." A respectful greeting.

**Imekari**: A child.

**Vashedan**: Crap (literally "refuse" or "trash").

**Hissra**:"Illusion"; often used to refer to deities.

**Panahedan**: "Goodbye".

**Karashok**: Infantry private. In DragonAge 2 - a melee Qunari warrior.

**Athlok**: Worker


	3. Names…

She watched as the tall Demon stomped away, confused and a little taken aback by his abrupt departure. She pouted, unclasping her hands and staring fixedly in the direction he had just stormed off to. The gate had opened to let him pass and small child couldn't help but stretch to get a better look inside the Demon's Lair.

She was able to glimpse him walking towards a group of Demons (there were more!) clustered together around a large tent before her view was abruptly cut off by a very broad, very blue, chest. The gate slammed shut, sending dust flying through the air and up into her eyes.

She blinked rapidly, then let her gaze wander up,

and up,

and up,

only to settle reluctantly over the grouchy, stern features of the gate guard. Their eyes met, his hard and unyielding, and hers wide, frightened, and suddenly wary.

She looked down shyly, intimidated by his disapproving gaze, and scuffed a toe in the warm dirt. She glanced up at him through her eyelashes, noticing how he watched her. The young child bit her lip and looked away when he straitened himself and folded his arms.

He was going to yell at her.

Or beat her.

She hated when she got beaten, but she was too close to him to get away unscathed. The little girl sighed inwardly, resigned, and physically prepared herself. She quickly brought her hands up to chest, hunching her back and lowering her head. She shut her eyes tightly and bent her knees, knowing that any hit would send her sprawling.

She heard the dirt shift and flinched, hiding her face in her hands from the blow…that never came.

The girl peeked through her fingers at the Demon, relaxing slightly when she saw that he hadn't moved. She lowered her dirty hands from her face and frowned at him. He stood completely still, never moving from his position, only shifting on the balls of his feet. His crossed arms rose and fell with his breathing and he blinked slowly as he studied her.

His demeanor, though still uninviting, seemed softer and his cold eyes glimmered knowingly in the afternoon light. The young child uncurled from her protective position, watching him with hopeful eyes. Maybe he would answer the rest of her questions! She opened her mouth to speak but the Demon beat her to it.

"You have sharp eyes, little one."

His deep voice was dry and lacking humor; the statement phrased as an accusation. She winced and rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly, blurting out a quick "Sorry."

His eyes narrowed and he nodded to himself; suspicions confirmed. She shifted from foot to foot, hugging her waist before blurting out:

"You won't beat me will you? I just wanted to see if what the others' said were true!"

Her voice became earnest as she began to blab.

"If there were blue Demons at the Docks and I found out that you _are_ blue but I wanted to know why so I asked the Other One by the banner and he said you were born that way but then he walked off before I could ask anything else and you aren't mad at me, are you? Please don't beat me…."

She trailed off, lowering her head dejectedly and wringing her hands nervously.

There was a long pause.

"If you do not cause trouble, then you will not be beaten."

It was said so simply, so matter of fact, that the small child could not believe it to be anything other than the truth. She inched closer.

"M-may I ask you a question?"

"No."

She gasped, staring up at the Demon in surprise.

"But why?"

The little girl asked slowly, curiosity once again getting the better of her.

He looked at her pointedly, drumming his fingers impatiently as her intent eyes continued to watch him. He tilted his head, listening, before lowering his arms and addressing the little girl once more.

"It is time for you to leave."

"But-"

"Go."

She started, swinging towards the stairs leading to Lowtown. Laughter and loud voices could be heard, echoing softly down the main road. It seemed that the dockworkers were back and as drunk as ever. She would have to be quick to get away without being seen. She scurried hastily to the Demon, innocent eyes staring up at him imploringly.

"Can I come back tomorrow?"

He looked at her silently, stern face never changing.

She sighed, before turning to race away. The young child was halfway to the alley when the Demon spoke again.

"What are you called, little one?"

She paused, tiny face scrunching in confusion. What was she called? She wasn't called anything. She didn't have a name. Most grownups called her 'Girl' or 'Brat". And those were the _nice_ names. One of the old beggars used to call her 'Sweetie'. It had always brought a strange fuzzy feeling to her chest. But he had died, so no one called her that anymore.

She rubbed her face, spreading more dirt on it.

Somehow, she didn't think that that was what the Demon guard wanted. She frowned, thinking hard. That wasn't the only thing that she had been called. What had the other Demon said? Oh, yes.

Grinning, she yelled out,

"I am Hissra!"

Then the little girl dove into the shadows of the alley, oblivious to the shocked Qunari she had left behind.


	4. Have Power

When the tiny imekari had suddenly appeared behind the Arvaarad, the Karashok had been captured in a rare moment of indecision.

He stood frozen when she touched the Arvaarad and remained that way as she began speaking to him in a light, airy voice. Hers was the voice of spring mornings, autumn leaves and winter's first snow. It was the stuff of dreams, reminding him of chimes singing in the wind. He saw the strength in her small limbs, the sharpness of her young features and the intelligence in her bright eyes.

And in that moment, the Karashok _knew_ that this small imekari would bring _nothing_ but trouble.

The Arvaarad stood staring at her blankly, and the Karashok watched, amused, as he fumbled to answer her. He turned his attention outward, still on the alert for the elusive spy, but was surprised to find the Arvaarad rushing by him in a manner far too similar to a fugitive escaping custody. He was muttering something about 'baths', 'sleep', and 'crazy'.

The Karashok's expression became stormy, angry that the Arvaarad would leave before the spy was found, and annoyed that he lacked the decency to close the gate behind him. Inwardly muttering about his seemingly incompetent betters, he slammed the gate shut and swung back towards the street. He almost ran into the imekari, who slinked away guiltily, caught in the act of spying into the compound.

The Karashok glared down at her, miffed by this small, unwanted distraction. She looked down at the ground, her filthy hair fluttering in the breeze that only _now_ decided to grace them with its presence. He brought his arms up, physically voicing his annoyance. The tiny imekari cringed, folding into herself and covering her vital areas.

The Karashok's irritation at the small girl evaporated, quickly replaced by amusement and mild interest.

Afraid of the Big Scary Qunari was she?

He shifted, his amusement disappearing when she flinched at the sound. His eyes narrowed at the action and he watched sharply as the imekari slowly moved her hands from her face and revealed her eyes.

His breath hitched when he saw the terror in them, suddenly uncomfortable.

This was not a normal reaction for a child.

The Karashok watched in silence as the emotions flew across her face, her eyes shifting rapidly before locking intensely with his when she finally came to a decision.

He understood then why the Arvaarad had left; these where the eyes that had been watching them.

He asked her, and she answered sheepishly, confirming his suspicions, before fisting her hands in the stained fabric of her tunic and sputtering out a string of words so quickly that the qunari guard scarcely had time to understand. Her last words confused him and he answered them like he was talking to a child; which he was.

She straitened, fear apparently forgotten, and let loose her curious tongue. His amusement returned when his blatant refusal to answer her questions made her gape like a fish. Just as it became obvious that she was not going to give up and leave, the Karashok heard a distant sound.

The uncoordinated feet of dozens of intoxicated dockworkers felt loud to the old spotter, who had the unusual urge grab the tiny imekari and place her behind him. He warned her instead and was surprised when she whirled in their direction before he had even finished his sentence.

She could hear them from this far away?

Strange.

Most humans could barely hear their own heartbeat.

The young child turned back to him, large eyes wide and pleading as she hastily asked if she could return.

And for the second time that day, the Karashok found himself frozen in a moment of indecision. He felt an odd twinge in this chest as he looked into her earnest eyes. Who was he, to deny such a tiny, cute-

The Karashok inwardly shook himself. He was a Soldier of the Qun! 'Cute' did _not_ fit into his vocabulary!

He opened his mouth to tell her that _no, she could not come back_, only to find her sprinting across the open street towards a darkened alley.

"What are you called, little one?" the words spilling uncontrollably from his lips instead.

She skidded to a halt in the middle of said street, features flickering briefly in confusion, before smiling happily and disappearing like the illusion that she claimed to be.

Later, when the second shift guard came to relieve him, the Karashok was gazing thoughtfully at a spot in the middle of the road, distractedly murmuring the word 'Hissra'.


	5. Little Bundles

She was back the next day and the next, until the never ending afternoons blended into weeks. She would appear like a ghost, breezing through the shadows of the docks and suddenly materializing on the steps of the Qunari compound. Each time the Karashok was taken by surprise, though at this point, her presence was almost expected. She would never make herself known to another guard, waiting patiently for the opportune moment to plague the Karashok with her increasingly insufferable questions.

'What are you doing?'

'Guarding the Gate.'

'Why are you guarding the gate?'

'Because someone has to.'

'Why?'

Why, _why_, _WHY_. The Karashok was beginning to hate that word. Most of the other gate guards knew that she was out there, watching, but had thus far not had the unfortunate experience of meeting her. No, that honor was reserved especially for him. So on the afternoon of the thirty-first day, the Karashok finally caved.

She came flickering up the steps, cautiously eyeing her surroundings before letting her keen gaze lock on him. The Docks were devoid of their workers and the Karashok had soon developed the sneaking suspicion that she wasn't meant to be here. Hence her selective appearances.

She slid closer, watching his face as she moved to his elbow. The Karashok found himself softening as he took in her ragged appearance, but soon became alarmed when her eyes widened in an expression of innocence and curiosity that he knew _far_ too well. Then he watched in horror as she took a deep breath and opened her mouth. He cringed inwardly, bracing himself for what he knew would come next.

"Can I go inside?"

He actually flinched.

"No." He resisted stubbornly, trying desperately not to be swayed by her wide eyes and not-cute looks.

"But, why?" She questioned curiously.

He exhaled forcefully, long past begging the Qun for patience.

"Because, you are not allowed inside, you would need an escort…" He trailed off, a thought suddenly occurring to him.

She could only enter if she was given express permission by the Arishok or if she was escorted by someone she knew. Someone she knew…

His eyes narrowed and he barked out a laugh, turning it into a cough at the last moment.

"Fine."

She stared up at him in surprise, her dumbfounded expression tearing another laugh from him, which he quickly turned into another cough. She moved forward, daring to touch his arm.

"Are you alright, Messere Demon?"

He pulled away abruptly, unnerved by the imekari's touch more than by her questions.

"I am well." He answered gruffly.

He looked down at her dirty form thoughtfully, liking his idea more and more. She smiled, her gaunt face quickly bouncing from concern to excitement. It made him dizzy just _watching_ the emotions fly across her features.

"So… Can I go inside?"

"Yes." He said bluntly, gritting his teeth as her shrill squeal reached his sensitive ears.

"Really?" She gasped out, clasping her tiny hands earnestly.

He had to bite the inside of his cheek to hold back an evil grin. He would have his revenge.

"Yes."

She began to hop about, joy apparently knowing no bounds. The Karashok turned to the gate, letting a sharp-toothed grin form on his face while he unlocked it. When he turned back to her, his features had resumed their mask of seriousness and the little girl was oblivious to his inner glee.

"Now remember, listen and be silent."

He inwardly rolled his eyes at his own words, knowing how long _that_ would last.

"Listen to your escort, and do everything he says."

She nodded solemnly, reverently absorbing the Karashok's words. He shoved the gate open effortlessly before turning and snagging one of her fragile arms. The tiny imekari froze, breath rushing out in a panicked wheeze, before stiffly making herself relax.

The Karashok was once again stunned by her negative response, but only nodded at her restraint. She smiled at him weakly, shuffling her feet awkwardly in the dry dirt.

She was clearly uncomfortable but far too eager to let this opportunity pass her by.

He straitened, waving another guard over before pacing purposely past the open gate towards the barracks.

He smirked.

The Karashok knew exactly who would be receiving this "little bundle of joy". He dragged her faster, ignoring her stumbling and the looks of disbelief sent in their direction.

Soon, the unapproachable Karashok would once again be unapproachable.

He flung past the flap opening of the barracks, pausing at the smell of leather and sweat, before setting his sights on his victim. The Karashok stomped determinedly towards the far corner of the tent, the crowed mess hall parting in front of him like a wave and the once jovial chattering fading quickly into silence.

His victim wasn't facing him, a fatal mistake if he were an enemy. The Qunari in front of him turned just as he stepped up behind him.

"What are yo-"

Lifting the squealing and struggling girl-child and dumping her in the now speechless Arvaarad's lap, the Karashok smiled evilly and spat,

"Enjoy."

Then he smugly turned heel and swaggered quickly back to his post.

The Arvaarad stared blankly at the imekari on his lap.

She blinked back up at him.

He swallowed, brows furrowed and opened his mouth in disbelief.

"What…just happened?"

* * *

**AN: Sheesh, sorry its been to so long. I got it out right? ;) It seems a little rusty on the descriptions to me but meh. Please tell me what I can do better! **

**Please review! **

**~Delgodess**


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